


milk and honey dripped

by tamana



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Jean-Jacques Leroy, Alpha Otabek Altin, Alpha Victor Nikiforov, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Katsuki Yuri, Brothels, Courtesans, M/M, Omega Yuri Plisetsky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 08:38:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10963629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamana/pseuds/tamana
Summary: “How old are you?”“Twelve,” he says and immediately regrets it when her mouth flattens.Pavel had been eight when the people had come for him, he remembers. Did that matter? Was he too old?It shouldn’t matter, he thinks frantically, he was a quick learner.Yuri sells himself to a brothel house.





	milk and honey dripped

“Go home, child.”

The house mother –  that’s what the boy who had answered the door called her –  is a thin, unsmiling woman with her hair pulled back in a severe bun. Her mouth is set in a thin line, and she cuts an imposing figure as she stares down at him from the doorway, blocking the way.

But Yuri has dealt with Yakov for years now, and it has been a long time since he has been frightened by the thought of a displeased adult, so he raises his chin stubbornly and speaks as clearly as he can, willing himself not to give in to the urge to shout. Yakov never really argued for long when he did that.

“I can’t. I need work, my family needs money –”

“Listen to me.” But he forgets that this woman is not Yakov, after all, and she refuses to yield where Yakov has learned to. “I don’t take just anyone off the streets. And we have a full house already. Go home.”

She turns to the door, and his hand shoots out before he can think _– Wait!  –_ gripping the side of the door tightly. Her frown deepens, but she turns to face him again. It’s enough for him to go on.

“Please, wait!” His hands move to the crisp cotton of her sleeves, clutching at her arm.

She eyes him steadily, unmoving, and he narrows his eyes at her. He won’t let go, he decides. He’ll beg all night, if he must.

“I have things to do, child. Go home.” She moves to pry his fingers off her arm, but he only digs them in deeper, unflinching.

He can still see his mother slumped in her chair at home when she’d heard the news first, a week ago now, that grandfather had gotten a fever and shrugged it off, had fallen asleep at the shop counter and had never fully woken up.

He can still see grandfather in his bed at home, deathly still except for the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his breaths getting weaker and weaker.

He sees all this, and his voice turns a bit ragged, the fight not to shout and be heard finally giving out.

“I can’t go, please, don’t you see, my grandfather’s sick!”

“Let your parents worry about that –” He cuts her off and shakes his head at her, feeling almost wild. _She wasn't listening! Why wasn’t she listening?_

“That’s what I’m saying, alright? My mother can’t. She’s been trying, but it’s not enough.”

His mother, bless her, she had tried so hard, had asked every neighbor twice, had sold everything she could, but it wasn’t like they had plenty to begin with, and the neighbors weren’t well off either. In the end, whatever money she could get just never seemed to stretch enough to pay for the medicine.  

“We need more money, or the village doctor says grandfather will die.”

He had listened in from behind the door, earlier that day, when the doctor had pulled his mother aside and suggested, very gently, that perhaps it was better if they just let nature take its course. Grandfather, after all, was quite old, his heart weak. They would not be blamed, he had said quietly, if they just let him sleep on.

He had wanted to scream, then, enough to make the house shake, until he realized the walls _were_ shaking, and that his mother was causing it. She had wailed and wailed, and when the doctor had finally left, he had had to put her to bed still trembling. 

“My mother, you don’t understand –”

The lady sighs, her grip on his hand slackening the slightest bit, and he presses into it desperately.

“Please,” and he feels a bit of hope when she keeps silent, waiting. “I’ll work hard. I’ll do anything, just give my family money. I have to help them.”

She looks at him for a moment, silent and assessing, as his heart pounds faster and faster – he can’t go back like this, he thinks. He can’t go home and let the shadow that’s been weighing his mother down grow heavier and heavier. Any heavier, and she might break, he thinks. And then Grandfather would be lost, too.

It feels like a lifetime that he waits for her, his grip on her arm never budging, fingers numb, but it’s worth it when she stands back and holds the door open with a sigh.

“Let me take a look at you first, and we’ll see.”

**Author's Note:**

> This will be mostly filth, let me warn you. Yes, yes. I belong in the trash :o


End file.
